Ombra, Part Two
by Chornyi
Summary: Part two of my new story.. Ian has a secret he cannot tell... Still rated R but no real R rating deserved in this part.


Ombra, Part Two  
  
By Chornyi  
  
Not mine.. Not even Ian, unfortunately. You know whose they are.  
  
Ian, the only suspect in a gruesome murder case, has a secret he cannot tell..   
  
....................................................................................  
  
'No guns.'  
  
'What?' It's only one word, but he manages to pack into it all the disbelief and disapproval most people would require an entire sentance to convey.  
  
'Trust me on this one, Danny. No guns.' Sara repeats.  
  
He looks at her as if he can't believe what he's hearing, but he puts the gun away. 'Pez, I hope you know what you're doing.'  
  
'I hope so too.'  
  
Although the door doesn't look like it was meant for knocking, Sara knocks.  
  
After nearly a minute, the door swings open.   
  
Sara's eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness inside. When her vision clears, she sees Ian Nottingham.   
  
He wears black BDUs, combat boots and a black shirt of some fine, sleek material that clings tightly to his body and arms. His dark hair is pulled straight where it touches his head, the rest bound back in a tail that forms a mass of curls at his neck.  
  
In his hands is a sword, or more accurately, a long knife, all one piece from the metal handle to the metal blade, straight with a squared tip like the katana and colored matte black, no reflection.  
  
He narrows his eyes at the brightness, then focuses on Sara.  
  
Behind her, Danny registers the blade. 'Jesus!' He starts to go for his gun and Sara holds up her hand.   
  
'Danny, stop.'  
  
Ian sees Danny, too. His eyes move back to Sara and go dark. She tenses. But then whatever it is is gone, and he takes a graceful step back, allowing them in.  
  
Danny hesitates for a moment, then follows Sara inside.  
  
Turning away from them, Ian lays the blade on a small table, then motions them toward the inner room. 'We can talk in there.'  
  
'Nottingham, we didn't come here to talk.' Sara says.  
  
He looks at her, his dark eyes unreadable. 'Then what did you come for?'  
  
She walks slowly toward him, until they are close enough for her to stare directly into his eyes. He doesn't look away.  
  
'Ian Nottingham.' Her voice is barely above a whisper, so soft that a few feet away, Danny can't hear her. 'You are under arrest for the murders of David Summers and Keith Tollman. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney...'  
  
She has to force her voice to remain steady.   
  
He looks... betrayed. He is betrayed.  
  
'Do you understand these rights, Ian?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Give me your hands. He doesn't question her, just holds out his wrists. Sara rachets the cuffs on. He flinches at the sound.  
  
Danny brings in the uniform they brought with them. Sara finally looks away from Ian. 'Take him down and put him in a cell until we get there, Bryan.'  
  
The uniform steps forward and takes Ian's arm. 'C'mon, guy.'  
  
Ian goes.   
  
Sara had worried he might resist, but he doesn't. He doesn't look back either.   
  
Sara realizes she is biting her lip and stops. 'C'mon, Danny. Let's get this over with.'  
  
Her partner falls in at her side. 'Pez, do you really think he's the guy? He came pretty quietly.'  
  
'I don't know. I guess we'll find out.'  
  
---  
  
He has a kitchen. Somehow she couldn't imagine Irons' place- later, Ian's place- with a kitchen. But there is one.  
  
'Pez, come look at this.' Danny calls from another room. Sara leaves the kitchen and joins him.  
  
'This kind of points the finger at him, doesn't it?'  
  
'He was Irons' personal security, Danny. You kind of need weapons for that.'  
  
'But a whole room devoted to them? Seems like something a psycho killer might have, too.'  
  
'You see any swords?'  
  
'Nahh. Handguns. Machineguns. Sniper rifle. Flamethrower. Knives. Machetes. Axe. Crossbows. No swords. Is that a rocket launcher? That is kind of cool...' He raises his brows at her.  
  
She doesn't smile. Not even for him.  
  
---  
  
Nottingham's personal room.  
  
It feels like the invasion of privacy it is.  
  
He doesn't have much. A flat black pallet on the floor, a black army blanket spread over it. A few books on a shelf. One framed photograph with a picture of twelve men in black BDUs and short-sleeved shirts. She recognizes Mobius on the left.   
  
Ian is in the middle, wrists crossed in front of him to bare the tattoo. His hair is nearly shaved, his face beardless. He looks young.   
  
She puts the picture down.   
  
'C'mon, there's nothing here. Let's get out of here.'  
  
'Pez, what is it? What gets to you about this one?' Danny cocks his head to the side, dark eyes concerned.  
  
'I know him, Danny.' Her voice is too soft, and she makes it louder. 'I know him.'  
  
'I thought you didn't like him.'   
  
This is Danny. She gives him the truth. 'I don't know how I feel about him.'  
  
'That's bad, Pez.'  
  
'Yeah. It is.'  
  
---   
  
'Jeez Louise, Pez, who is this guy? Do you know what they took off him? 14 knives, 1 gun and what the hell is this?'   
  
Bryan holds up a thin metal wire with a wooden handle at either end.  
  
'Garrote.' Sara says.  
  
'Jeez Louise.'   
  
---  
  
Ian looks up as she enters the cell.   
  
He sits on the bunk, back against the wall, knees drawn up beside him. They've taken away his ring, the chain he always wears, the laces from his boots. Even the binding from his hair. It falls loose around his face.  
  
He sees her looking at his naked right hand and fists it.  
  
'You'll get it back, Ian. I promise.'  
  
'Why?' Just one word, but it holds everything. Rage, pain, betrayal, desperation.  
  
It is killing him to be here.  
  
'Because this is what I do, Ian. I find out who is a killer. Are you?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Did you kill those men?'  
  
'No.'  
  
'Who did?'  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
But he looks down when he says it.  
  
'Yes you do..' she breathes it, realization in her voice. He turns his face away from her, shaking his head. 'Yes you do, Ian. You have to tell me.'  
  
'No. I don't.'  
  
'Then you're going to have to stay here. We have you on posession of illegal weapons anyway. We don't even have to have the murders to hold you.'  
  
'That would be your choice, not mine.'  
  
'No, Ian. That would be YOUR choice. Tell me who's doing this.'  
  
'I can't.'  
  
'Fine.' She stands up to leave, but something makes her turn around again. She looks down at him.  
  
'Ian, can you tell me one thing?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'Is it a Black Dragon?'  
  
'Yes.'  
  
'I thought they were all dead. Except for you.'  
  
'They are.'  
  
---  
  
When she's gone, Ian rolls over on the bunk and curls himself on his side. He can't sleep here. He can't relax.  
  
Inside his head, his mind races ,looking for a way out.   
  
He could get out, of course he could, but then what? He'd have to leave.   
  
No more Sara. No more Father.   
  
He couldn't return to the mansion. All of Irons' things, what would happen to them? Could he live without those things? Could he live without Sara?   
  
He wishes he had the katana.   
  
He wishes he had a blade in his hands, but they've taken all his weapons. For once, he IS unarmed. And it doesn't feel good.  
  
He cannot tell her who the killer is. Not if she keeps him here forever.  
  
He cannot tell her, because it is him.  
  
---  
  
Sara walks out of the precinct, trying to forget the look on Ian's face when she left him there. She knows it is not a good place for him.   
  
It's not a good place for anyone, but Ian doesn't react like most people do. To him, the cell is worse then a cage. It's a trap. All his security has been stripped away- his weapons, his chain, the ring he never takes off.   
  
He is completely vulnerable, and it's her fault. And worst of all, he's not guilty.  
  
She believes him. Believes the sincerity in his golden-brown eyes, in his open face. He is not lying to her- he did not kill those men.  
  
But if she lets him go, she'll never find out who did.  
  
Danny is waiting for her at their desk. 'So, what did you get?' he asks, handing her his cup of coffee.   
  
She sips gratefully. 'He didn't do it, Danny.'   
  
'And you know this how?'  
  
'He told me.'  
  
'You believe him?'  
  
'I do.'  
  
'So he's not our killer.' Danny takes the coffee back and takes a sip himself.  
  
'No. He's not.' She leans closer to him, lowering her voice. 'But, Danny, he knows who is.'  
  
Danny's almond shaped eyes widen and he reaches for his jacket. 'Great, let's go get him.'  
  
'He wouldn't give me a name.'  
  
'Pez..'   
  
'I know, I know. Give me time, Danny. I don't want to bring anyone else in on this. I don't want anyone else interrogating him. And I definitely don't want to let the captain know.'  
  
'We haven't got much time, Pez.'  
  
'I know, Danny. I know.'  
  
'So whatever you're gonna do, do it now. Do it now, Pez. Before someone else dies.'  
  
---  
  
Sara knocks on the door, and after a minute or two, Gabriel opens it. His dark hair is touseled, his blue-green eyes sleepy. 'Hey.'   
  
When he sees it's her, he opens the door wider, letting her step inside. 'What can I do for you? Cause I know this isn't a social call.'  
  
'No, it's not. I need your help.'  
  
'Okay.'  
  
'I need you to find out everything you can on the Black Dragons. I know the information says only twelve men were involved in the program, but I need you to find out if there are more. And if not, find out everything you can about the eleven dead men.'  
  
'Okay.'  
  
'And, Gabriel?'  
  
'Yeah?'  
  
'I need this fast.'  
  
'You got it.' He gives her that cocky little grin that means he thinks he can handle whatever she wants from him. She hopes he can.   
  
'I got a new toy,' he says, turning and walking toward the computer. 'If I can't find what you want using these programs, no one can.'  
  
'That's what I'm afraid of.'  
  
'Hey. If you knew what I could find out with this thing, you'd REALLY be afraid.'  
  
---  
  
Who created the replicant, and why? Those are the questions Ian needs answered. But he can't answer them in here.  
  
He looks down at his naked right hand, at the place where the ring should be. Letting them take that had been hard. One of the hardest things he's ever done.   
  
It would have been so easy to break the young policeman's arm as he reached for Ian's wrist. Even with the cuffs on.   
  
Break his arm, garrote him with the cuff-chain. He could have pulled his longest knife as if the cuffs didn't even matter and fought his way out of the precinct. He could have run, and been gone before the officers even spilled out of the door.  
  
He would have had the ring. But he would have lost Sara. And Irons.  
  
That's why he's here.  
  
He curls up smaller, ignoring the rattle of the cell door, the guard's voice, the scent of jail food that he will not touch, not even if he starves to death first.   
  
It's not that it's worse then army food- it's not. It's that he can't eat in here. Can't breathe in here.  
  
Sara. Sara.  
  
He curls up small and thinks of her. Her name, her face, her voice, her scent, her touch.  
  
She's killing him.   
  
He still loves her.  
  
---  
  
Gabriel's information doesn't help. There WERE only twelve Black Dragons, and eleven of them really are dead.  
  
Sara stares at the useless information on the computer screen. Gabriel looks up at her. 'This case of yours, it involves these guys?'  
  
'Yeah.'  
  
'Then how come you left out one?' He raises his brows.  
  
Sara finally smiles. 'Okay, Gabriel. Find out everything you can about Ian Nottingham.'  
  
'You got it.'  
  
--- 


End file.
